


I'm Just Sayin'

by MXD



Series: T'Chucky Butt Beatdown [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dark Bottoms Club, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MXD/pseuds/MXD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T'Challa and Sam have a little conversation about recent events in T'Challa and Bucky's dating life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Just Sayin'

Sam stretched out on the park bench, T’Challa had called him up in a huff asking to meet him. Sam figured he knew what was up considering that T’Challa and Bucky had a date last night. Granted, T’Challa and Bucky didn’t really seem like the date night type so they likely ended up tangling somewhere. 

 

Sam was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard T’Challa clear his throat. 

 

“Panther,” T’Challa intoned when Sam continued to stare at him a little too long. 

 

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, willing his heart to slow down. “You wanted to see me?”

 

“Yes, about that. . . man you introduced me to-” T’Challa started.

 

“Wait, wouldn’t you like to sit down?” Sam asked, gesturing to the open space next to him on the bench. 

 

T’Challa shifted from side to side, “I think I’d prefer to stand-”

 

“Bucky pounded you the ever-loving hell out and you think you’re never going to sit down again?” Sam asked very pointedly. “I mean, Steve had me wondering how I would ever watch a movie in a theater again.”

 

It took throwing out a few bags of frozen peas for Sam to tell Steve to take it a little bit easier on him. It wasn’t that Steve was too rough, they just couldn’t get enough of each other. Which tends to have unpleasant side effects of swelling that can be greatly reduced with an ice pack. 

 

It also took throwing out a few bags of frozen peas for Sam to invest in actual ice packs. 

 

“What is with them?” T’Challa sighed. 

 

“They just have a lot of love to give,” Sam said coyly. 

 

“Have you seen it?” T’Challa asked pointedly.

 

“I’ve sparred with Bucky, and he wears grey sweatpants very obviously.” Sam pretended to be calm, but he was worried that T’Challa would pick up on the fact that Sam felt like the tips of his ears were burning. 

 

“Did he hit you with it?” T’Challa teased.

 

Sam started blinking and looking around. Sam had once used a hip throw on Bucky and something unaccounted for hit Sam in the side. Bucky’s arms were up by Sam’s head, his legs were too far out to hit Sam in the side. Sam doubted that Bucky would carry any weapons while sparring with him. 

 

It took Sam about two hours to realize that he got smacked with Bucky’s dick. Taking time to note that Bucky’s dick hadn’t just hit it, but it had laid across his side briefly as Sam threw Bucky to the mats. Sam made a mental note to avoid Bucky’s crotch a little bit more while sparring, though he kinda hoped Bucky would put him in an arm bar. 

“It may have tapped me,” Sam said carefully. 

 

“That thing doesn’t tap anything. It  _ slides, glides, prods,  _ and _ waps, _ but it does not tap.” T’Challa sounded almost bitter. 

 

“Hey, I did try to warn you.” Sam said smugly. 

 

T’Challa contemplated the warning that Sam had given him. That Bucky is good at getting what he wants. That Bucky tends accomplish his goals well. That Bucky isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes. 

 

T’Challa slapped Sam upside his head.

 

“Hey! That’s mean, man,” Sam laughed. “Did Bucky fuck all the strength out of you?”

 

T’Challa glared at Sam, considering putting some weight behind the next slap. But then he collapsed onto the bench next to Sam. T’Challa slouched down, turning his hips under so he wouldn’t put pressure on his newly sensitive area. 

 

“I mean, honestly,” T’Challa started and then trailed off. 

 

“Give it a day, and take a soak,” Sam advised. 

 

“I don’t think I can.” T’Challa said, eyeing a tree and wondering if he’d be able to climb again after what Bucky did to him. 

 

“You two fucked in the bathtub and now you think you can’t get in one without jerking of to the memory?” Sam smiled so big you could see his molars. The purest form of glee in knowing that someone else had experienced what he had after his third time with Steve. 

 

“This stops eventually, right?” T’Challa asked. 

 

“Definitely! I mean, I’m sitting on this hard bench and last night I was sitting on-”

 

“We’re good! We are good, Sam!” T’Challa cut him off. 

 

Sam laughed and knocked into T’Challa. T’Challa dragged his eyes away from the tree that was mocking him to give Sam an evil look. Sam shrugged apologetically, and a smile lit up T’Challa’s face. 

 

“I’d say I’m going to get revenge on you, but I guess Steve punishes you enough,” T’Challa quipped.


End file.
